


Out of the Fire

by songofhell



Series: In Too Deep [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Soulless Sam Winchester, dubious consent due to soullessness, unreciprocated crowstiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-08-23 10:54:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8325049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofhell/pseuds/songofhell
Summary: Dean has stopped lying to himself about what he wants and his ready to settle down with Crowley. Happily ever after, right? Except that Crowley seems to be having difficulty breaking his habit of keeping secrets, and when one of those secrets involves Dean's brother... well, who can blame him for being pissed?This is a sequel to In Too Deep, so I highly recommend reading that first.





	1. Promises

Dean entered the passcode to open the gate, then drove on to park the Impala in the garage. He still wasn’t used to living someplace so luxurious, but it hadn’t quite been a week since he had moved in with his boyfriend, so he was sure he’d get used to it eventually.

“Crowley?” he called as he walked into the house. “You home?”

“Dean?” a surprised voice greeted him from around the corner.

Dean eyes grew almost comically wide in shock as the equally surprised angel turned into the entry way. _“Cas?_ What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was about to ask the same of you. Why are you not with Lisa?”

“We, uh… broke up.” He glanced around, thoroughly confused by this entire situation. “Are you following me or something?”

“No, I am here to see Crowley.”

He surpassed confused and moved right along to completely flabbergasted. “I didn’t realize you two were on speaking terms.”

“We’re… yes.” Castiel looked around uncomfortably. “Why are you here?”

Oh, this was not going to be fun to explain. “I… well, I sorta live here.”

Wide blue eyes rested on Dean again, a mix of emotions raging in them, the most prominent of which were confusion and suspicion. “You are living with Crowley?”

“Yeah…” He shifted uncomfortably, fairly certain that an angel would not approve of him dating a demon, even if he was apparently on speaking terms with said demon.

“You are involved?”

Huh, he didn’t seem too pissed, but then again, Castiel wasn’t the easiest to read, and it was still plenty clear that he wasn’t happy. Dean gave a small, awkward shrug. “Yeah.”

Castiel shook his head furiously. “He promised he would not involve you.”

Of course, leave it to Cas to not realize what his question _really_ implied. “Oh, you mean involved in something particular, not involved with Cr…” His eyes narrowed slightly. “What exactly is going on?”

Castiel sighed. “I did not want to involve you in this.”

He crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly. “Too bad.”

“After Crowley became the King of Hell…” the angel began hesitantly.

 _“What?”_ He ground his teeth together furiously. _“Crowley_ is King of Hell?”

“Yes…. Why is that so upsetting?”

“I’ll get back to you.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and speed dialed Crowley, getting his voicemail. “You need to either call me back or get your ass home _now._ We need to talk.” His gaze snapped back to Castiel as he hung up. “He keeping any other secrets I should know about?” he demanded.

“As I am unsure of how much you know, I cannot appropriately answer that.” For someone whose primary expression was confused, it really said something that Castiel looked even more confused than usual. “Why are you living here, Dean? What happened with Lisa?”

He decided to avoid the first question for now. The longer he could put off the angelic lecture, the better. Though he doubted he would be able to avoid it for long. “I wasn’t happy with her. Apparently I’m not cut out for that kind of life, after all.”

“So you moved in with Crowley? I still do not understand.”

He sighed. Yeah, of course he wouldn’t make this easy. “I’m dating him, Cas. He’s my boyfriend.”

Castiel’s eyes grew wide. “You cannot be-”

He was cut off by Crowley’s sudden appearance. “Dean, what’s…?” His gaze landed on Castiel and his expression grew furious. “I told you, you can’t just show up in my home!” he shouted.

Castiel looked at him coldly. “You would not answer your phone.”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest as he rounded on Crowley. “Anything you want to tell me, _King?_ Because, see, _I_ thought that you were done with your secrets, but apparently-”

“I was going to tell you, Dean,” he began placatingly, but Dean interrupted.

“Oh, really? And when exactly were you planning on doing that? It’s funny how often I find out these things _right before_ you were going to tell me.” He had thought that this time around things would be different, considering that he already knew that Crowley was a demon, so he wouldn’t be getting that nasty surprise a few months down the road. But it was starting to look like keeping secrets from him was a specialty of Crowley’s.

“Alright, I never claimed to be good with relationships-”

“You seemed to be doing fine with ours,” Castiel spoke up coolly. “Although now I am beginning to question a few things.”

The color drained from Crowley’s face and Dean let out a huff of air, feeling as though he had just been punched in the gut. His eyes shifted between the two of them. “‘Our?’” His tone had gone from enraged to dispirited.

Crowley’s eyes snapped to him, his expression desperate. “Dean-”

“Yeah, you really do suck at relationships, Crowley. Generally, the person you’ve been dating longest moves in first.” He took a deep breath, doing his best to keep his emotions under control. “So, I think I should probably move out. And you know what, since you’re so bad, you should probably stick to one guy, too – if that.”

“Dean, I _am_ sticking to one guy. Castiel and I were sleeping together before I got with you, that’s _all.”_

Dean glanced at Castiel to see that his gaze was fixed on the wall opposite from Crowley, his face carefully emotionless. “Yeah, looks like it,” he muttered, shaking his head as he turned back to Crowley. “I really would’ve thought that you would have learned a thing or two about keeping secrets from the last time around.”

“The last time around?” Castiel asked, looking to Crowley with raised eyebrows.

Crowley sighed “We dated before he knew I was a demon,” he explained hastily before turning back to Dean. “Castiel was rebound sex, nothing more, I swear to you.”

That brought out emotion in the angel. Suddenly, he looked ready to smite the demon. “You did tell him that you had Sam brought back, right?”

Dean’s jaw fell open, but no sound came out. Crowley looked terrified and seemed to think it’d be best to let Dean speak first. “Sam?” he finally choked out. “Sam’s alive?”

“Oh, I suppose you didn’t,” Castiel commented nonchalantly.

Dean had never seen Crowley look at anyone as hatefully as he now glared at Castiel. “No, I didn’t tell him that _you_ brought Sam back because _you_ MADE ME PROMISE I WOULDN’T!”

Dean turned his incredulous gaze to Castiel. “You made him keep from me that Sam, _my brother,_ is alive?”

Castiel met his eyes calmly. “I thought that you had stopped hunting – that you wanted a normal life.”

“I wanted my _brother_ back, you son of a bitch!”

“I wanted to tell you, Dean,” Crowley said softly.

He glanced back to him. “Don’t think this means you’re off the hook,” he snapped.

“The _only_ reason I didn’t tell you is because he made me promise, and I keep my promises.”

“Yeah, promises, secrets, nothing you don’t keep.”

“Alright, I deserved that,” he muttered, looking down.

“Cas. What. The. Hell?” Dean demanded, turning back to the angel.

Castiel sighed. “In my defense, I thought that Sam would come see you of his own initiative.”

“Wait, so… he just decided not to come see me? Not to say anything?”

“I believe he thought, similar to me, that you were better off with the normal life. I believe that everyone who truly cares for you thought so, in fact.” His eyes flickered to Crowley briefly, who glared up at him.

“What the hell is your problem?” the demon demanded. “We haven’t even slept together in over a month.”

“Yes, so how long will it be before you find somebody to replace Dean?”

“Please, I was thinking of Dean the entire time we were together, it’s entirely different.”

Castiel suddenly grabbed Crowley by the front of his coat and shoved him against the wall with enough force to crack a hole in the drywall. “I am _done_ working with you,” he growled before disappearing from the room.

“Just a hunch,” Dean said as he walked over to Crowley, who had slid down the wall after being released. He extended his hand, helping him to his feet. “But I think Cas actually liked you.”

“Yes, I am starting to get that impression,” he muttered as he dusted the drywall off his clothes before meeting Dean’s expectant gaze. “Let’s go sit down, get a drink… I’ll explain everything to you.”

“Do you really mean everything this time?”

He inclined his head in a nod. “I promise.”


	2. Secrets

Dean didn’t look at Crowley as he set a beer on the table in front of him before taking a seat across the kitchen table. Not for the first time, he felt as though his relationship with Crowley was made up of lies. It wasn’t as bad as last time, it wasn’t as though his boyfriend was an entirely different person than he had believed him to be, this time he felt as though they actually had a chance of working through it all. Still, Crowley was clearly in the habit of keeping secrets from him, and sure, maybe he should expect that from a demon, but he was definitely _not_ okay with it.

“Okay,” Dean sighed as he turned to face him. “Start talking.”

“The only reason I hadn’t told you I’m King is because I didn’t know how to bring it up.”

He eyed him over the top of his beer as he took a drink. “It wouldn’t have been that hard.”

“I know, but I’d _just_ gotten you back, and I was worried how you’d take it. And whenever I thought about it, I couldn’t help but think about all the other stuff I needed to tell you – stuff I’d given my word I wouldn’t drag you into.”

“So? I’m all for integrity, man, but when it comes to stuff like that-”

“I was a crossroads demon, Dean. Keeping my word means something different to me than it does to most people.”

Dean sighed. “Okay, fine. So you became King of Hell, then what?”

“Ruling Hell isn’t the most secure of jobs, and with so many demons out there being die-hard Lucifer supporters, I need all the power I can get. So, since souls are power, I began thinking about the vast, untapped resource of souls in Purgatory.”

“Purgatory? Like the limbo between Heaven and Hell?”

“Not exactly. Purgatory is where monsters go when they die. If I could get even _half_ of those souls, my throne would be secured. But I couldn’t hope to get in there on my own, so I recruited Castiel – he takes half, I take half, and we all walk away happy.” Crowley sighed as he took a drink of his Scotch.

Crowley and Castiel were working on breaking into monster heaven? Yeah, it didn’t sound like anything could go wrong with that. But currently Dean had more pressing matters on his mind. “So where does Sam come in?”

“I needed to get monsters to find Purgatory. And to get monsters, I needed hunters. I wanted you and your brother, of course, but our feathered friend put his foot down. So I settled for the moose and your grandfather.”

 _“What?”_ Dean choked on his beer. “You mean Samuel?”

“That’s the one. They’ve been rounding up monsters for me to interrogate, with the help of a few cousins of yours.”

“They agreed to this?” Sam hadn’t even wanted to work with Crowley to stop the Apocalypse, so why would he be willing to help him out now?

Crowley hesitated. “Samuel… agreed. Sam doesn’t know.”

“So you’re using my brother?” Dean demanded, anger creeping into his voice.

“He seems happy enough,” he argued half-heartedly.

“And why would Samuel agree?”

Crowley looked down. “I told him that if he helped me get what I needed… I’d bring his daughter back.”

Dean’s breath caught in his throat. “You said you’d bring Mom back?” He swallowed thickly. “Were you telling the truth?”

“What did I say about my word, Dean?” he asked softly, meeting his gaze.

“You can do that?”

“With the power of the souls in Purgatory, I could.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the sudden surge of hope he had felt away. No, getting his mom back was _not_ worth that. “How did you bring him back, then?” he asked curiously as he opened his eyes.

“Castiel. I gave him a power boost that was enough to get Samuel out of Heaven and Sammy out of Hell.”

“Was that before or after you started sleeping with him?”

“Before,” he sighed. “We fell into bed together after we started working on this Purgatory project. But like I said, he was a rebound.”

“Rebound sex I get; it’s rebound sex with my best friend that I have a problem with.”

“I thought neither of us would ever see you again. The last thing I expected was for him to actually fall for me.”

“Well, he did, and he’s still my friend, so I’m gonna have to talk to him about this whole mess at some point.” He had never thought Castiel would fall for someone, and the fact that he was one of the things standing in the way of him being with the guy he liked made him feel awful. But he reminded himself that even if he wasn’t with Crowley, it wouldn’t make a difference; Crowley had never had those feelings for Castiel in the first place, and even if he broke up with him now, it wouldn’t lead to happiness for anyone involved. “And you will, too – you owe him an apology.”

“Of course. Anything to get him back on my team. I’m not going to be able to crack into Purgatory without him.”

“You’re not going to be cracking into Purgatory, period. It’s a stupid idea.”

Crowley’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I need the power, Dean. You don’t understand how fragile my rule is.”

“Then tell the demons you have an in with the hunter they’re all terrified of.”

Crowley scoffed. “Not that that won’t be useful, but I need a little more than that.”

“So you want to open up a place full of _monsters’_ souls? Come on, Crowley, that just _sounds_ like a terrible idea. There’s no telling what might happen.”

“Whatever does happen, I’ll handle it.”

“What if you can’t? I just got through saving the world once. I really don’t feel like doing it again just because I have an idiot for a boyfriend.”

He perked up slightly. “So I _am_ still your boyfriend, then?”

Dean took a moment to consider that. “Only if you agree not to open Purgatory.”

He scowled. _“That’s_ blackmail.”

“Well, it sounds to me like you were blackmailing my grandfather, anyway, so what does it matter?”

“No, I was _bribing_ him, there’s a difference.”

“Whatever. Yes, you’re still my boyfriend. I can still love you while being royally pissed at you – ask Sam. And as your boyfriend, I am asking you to _please_ listen to reason and find a smarter way to gain leverage in Hell.”

Crowley looked at him as he mulled that over before finally conceding with a sigh. “Fine, maybe you’re right. It’s not like I can do it without Castiel, anyway.”

“Why did he even agree to help in the first place? I thought he was smarter than that.”

“Raphael took over in Heaven and wants to reset the Apocalypse. The souls would help Cassie to take him down and take over Heaven.”

“Okay, now that _is_ a problem.” Why couldn’t anything be simple anymore?

“So you _do_ think we should open up Purgatory?” Crowley asked hopefully.

 _“No._ I think we need to find another way to stop Raphael. But after Lucifer, how hard can it be? Cas and I have trapped the guy before – we just need some holy oil and an angel blade.”

“He’s an archangel, Dean, not just any angel blade will work on him – it needs to be an archangel’s blade. Which, given that the only one left is his…”

“Okay, yeah, that could cause some problems. Still doable, though. We’ll figure it out.”

“Fine, if you insist on doing it the hard way.”

“It’s the _smart_ way.”

“It’s the stubborn Winchester way, but whatever you want to call it.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Is there anything else I should know?”

Crowley took the time to think the question over, and Dean felt himself relax slightly at seeing that. He was actually _trying,_ so that was something, at least. It didn’t excuse that he clearly had a habit of keeping secrets, but at least he was making an effort to make sure everything was out in the open now.

“Only that… there is a reason I brought back _your_ brother, _your_ grandfather, and was intending to bring back _your_ mother. I wanted to do something for you. And I suppose I was hoping that, somewhere along the line, it would cause you to get involved, despite everything I had promised Castiel.”

Dean raised his eyebrows slightly. “Is this a ‘I did it all for you’ speech?”

Crowley chuckled, shaking his head. “Far from it. My intentions were completely selfish, but I did have some ulterior motives concerning you.”

“Yeah, well, given that I don’t approve, I’m _not_ saying thanks, but… I suppose it is touching in your own, twisted way.”

“I am a demon.”

“I’m aware. And the King of all demons, apparently.”

“Is that going to be an issue?” he asked hesitantly.

Dean shrugged. “If I can get past you being a demon, I’m pretty sure I can get past that. I’m just-”

“Pissed at me for keeping it secret. I get it.”

He nodded. “Alright then, if that’s all…” He tossed his beer in the trash as he got to his feet. “Take me to my brother.”


	3. Alive

Crowley dropped Dean off in the town where Sam was currently working a case with their grandfather. He offered to stay, but Dean felt that this was something he needed to do on his own; it would be weird enough with Samuel there, he didn’t need to throw Crowley into the mix, too.

It wasn’t hard to trace the footsteps in which the case would lead them; there was a survivor of the monster’s latest attack, and unless he had missed them, they would be at the hospital, talking to her. He was walking up the sidewalk, when voices reached him from around the front of the building. He froze, a pang going through his chest as he recognized his brother’s voice.

“If this is a werewolf, that girl in there is infected. We should come back when it’s not so busy, take her out.”

“And what if it’s not a werewolf?” He had only met his grandfather once, on a trip back in time, but he still recognized his voice. “She could still be human.”

“Yeah, but what are the chances? The silver test won’t tell us anything until after her first transformation, and do you really want to wait until she starts killing people? Or turning more? Better safe than sorry.”

Dean frowned. Killing a girl that he was only ninety percent sure was a monster? That didn’t sound like the Sam he knew. Hell must have really screwed with him.

“She’s a twelve-year-old girl,” Samuel argued.

“Who’s probably now a twelve-year-old monster. Look, I know it’s not… desirable, but it’ll be easier to stop her before she turns.”

“No. I refuse to kill a little girl until I know that there’s no other choice.”

“Fine. Go interview the other witness. I’ll handle it.” Sam sounded completely unfazed at the idea of killing the girl, but then again, Dean couldn’t see his expression. He probably looked a lot more distraught than he sounded.

 “I have another idea,” Dean spoke up as he rounded the corner. “We stake out her room. Catch her if she turns.”

Samuel’s confused gaze snapped towards him. “And who are you?”

Sam blinked in surprise. “Dean?”

“Dean? As in your brother?”

“Hey, gramps.” His eyes flickered to him briefly before returning to Sam. “Sammy…” He pulled him into a tight hug. Hearing that he was alive just wasn’t the same as actually getting to hold his brother again, feeling him in his arms and knowing that he was safe. “Good to see you,” he muttered thickly.

Sam huffed out a slight laugh as he patted him on the back. “Yeah… you too.” He pulled back when Dean finally loosened his grip, fixing his older brother with a curious gaze. “What are you doing here?”

“Tracking you down, since you apparently can’t be bothered to tell me you’re alive.”

Sam raised his eyebrows slightly, but before he could say anything, Samuel cleared his throat. “I’ll, uh, go check on the girl, give you two a minute. Good to finally meet you, Dean.”

He glanced over at him again, distractedly. “Yeah, good to see you again.”

Samuel decided not to comment on that and disappeared into the hospital, allowing Dean to refocus his attention on Sam. “So, what’s the deal? You’ve been back practically this whole time, and I haven’t got so much as a freakin’ text message. Did you lose the ability to use a phone?”

Sam gave a small shrug. “You finally had what you wanted, Dean.”

“I wanted my brother alive!”

“You wanted a family. You have for a long time, maybe the whole time. I know you. You only gave it up because of the way we lived. But you had something, and you were building something. Had I shown up, Dean, you would have just run off. I'm sorry. But it felt like after everything, you deserve some regular life.”

Dean shook his head, his eyes up to the sky. “Yeah, well that’s bullshit.”

Sam sighed. “How did you even find out I’m alive?”

“Cas spilled the beans.”

“Cas?” His eyebrows furrowed. “He talked to you? I’ve been calling him, but he hasn’t answered any of my prayers.”

Dean frowned. “Wait, so you have no idea how you got back?”

“No. I mean, I was... down there, and then, next minute, it's raining, and I'm lying in that field, alone. I looked, but it's kind of hard to go looking for whatever saved you when you got no leads. Do you know anything?”

“Yeah, Cas pulled you out.”

“Cas did? Then why isn’t he answering me?”

Dean sighed. “Probably because he doesn’t want you to find out the truth.” He fixed his brother with a steady gaze. “He was working with Crowley, and they brought you and Samuel back to work for them.”

“What?” Sam shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Look, I don’t think Samuel knows about Cas, but he definitely knows he’s working for Crowley. Has he done anything odd? Anything that might imply he’s delivering monsters to Crowley?”

“Oh. Um… yeah, actually. Every once in a while, he’ll take a monster somewhere and grill it for info.”

“And you didn’t find that shady at all?” Dean demanded incredulously.

“Well… he’s our grandfather, I figured he had his reasons.”

“Yeah, he was taking them to Crowley so that he could torture them for information on Purgatory.”

“Purgatory? Why does Crowley want to know about Purgatory? And Cas, too?”

“Purgatory’s monster Heaven, Crowley’s King of Hell, and he wants the souls from there for a power boost. And Cas wanted them in order to take down Raphael, who’s trying to take over Heaven.”

“Wow, that’s…”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed bitterly.

“But why would Samuel work for Crowley?”

“He told him he’d bring Mom back,” he explained with a sigh.

Sam’s eyes grew wide. “And he believed him?”

“Crowley can be pretty convincing. Especially when he’s telling the truth. The souls would have given him the power he needed to bring her back.”

Sam frowned at him curiously. “How do you know all this?”

“Got Crowley to spill the beans after Cas let slip a couple things.”

“Nice one. You kill him?”

“Uh… no. But I did get him to stop with his Purgatory plan.” He should probably tell Sam the whole truth, but he had just gotten his brother back; he didn’t want to immediately piss him off. Besides, there was something off about Sam right now, and he was even less sure of how he would react to the news.

Sam arched an eyebrow at him. “Why let him walk?”

“Just… you know, it could be useful having a working relationship with the King of Hell. He’s certainly better than yellow-eyes or Lilith.”

“Never thought I’d hear you say something like that.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve said a couple things I didn’t see coming, either,” he easily changed the subject. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said with a dismissive shrug.

“Right…. You remember it?” Dean knew this was a loaded subject, but it was clearly weighing on Sam a lot, and he was worried.

“What?”

“The Cage?”

“Yeah.”

“You want to-?”

“No,” Sam immediately cut him off.

“Well, if anybody can relate…”

“Dean, I don't want to talk about it. I'm back. I get to breathe fresh air, have a beer, hunt with my family, see you again. So why exactly would I want to think about Hell?”

“And you really think it’s best to ignore it?”

“Do you have any room to talk?”

Well, he had a point there. “Maybe not, but you’ve always been the better one of us when it comes to talking about feelings and all those girlie things.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge his brother’s words. “We are in the middle of a case here. If you’re wanting to stick around and help, we should probably get back to Samuel.”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded and fell into step beside his brother as they walked into the hospital.

“Hey, do you think you could get Cas to talk to me?” Sam asked as they made their way to the elevators. “Since he’s not answering any of my prayers, I mean.”

“I can try, but… we kind of had a fight after I found out he’d been keeping from me that you were back. Not sure if he’s talking to me anymore.” Especially with Dean stealing his boyfriend and all that.

“But I thought he was who told you I was back?”

“Only because I happened to run into him and it came up.”

Sam raised his eyebrows as they stepped into the elevator. “How do you happen to run into an angel?”

“Because you were wrong. I left Lisa. An apple pie life wasn’t for me, after all.”

“Oh. When did that happen?”

“About a week ago. What were you wanting to talk to Cas about, anyway?” Best to change the subject before Sam started asking much more about the circumstances of him leaving Lisa and running into Castiel.

“Just, you know, thank him for bringing me back.”

“I’ll do what I can, but he might be more willing to listen to you than me, at this point.”

They reached their floor and set off for the victim’s room. “So are you gonna tell Samuel that you found out about Crowley?”

“And ruined his chance at getting Mom back? No way. I’ll leave that to Crowley, since he’s the one who pulled him into the whole mess in the first place.”

“Good call.”

Dean breathed in a deep breath. “This feels right. Hunting with you again. I’ve missed it.”

Sam gave him a smile that, was it his imagination, or did it not quite touch his eyes? “Yeah. It’s good to have you back, Dean.”

“Could’ve had me back a long time ago if you weren’t so pig-headed.”

Sam chuckled. “Right. So, you gonna start hunting with us?”

“I don’t… I mean, working with a bunch of hunters has never really been our thing.”

“They’re family.”

“Yeah, a bunch of cousins that we don’t really know. I figured we could go back to hunting on our own. If they need us, they can call.”

Sam nodded. “Alright, sure.”

“Great.” He wasn’t quite sure how he’d manage to keep it from Sam that he was dating, and living with, Crowley while they were traveling around, hunting together, but he’d figure out a way.

Turns out, it wasn’t as difficult as he had thought it would be. Sam wanted to keep his own car, and all-in-all, had become a lot more independent in their time apart.

“I mean, I’ve kinda gotten into my own habits since coming back,” Sam explained as they walked back to his car after killing the skinwalker. “So, we can just meet up wherever there’s a hunt.”

Dean nodded. “Works for me.” That way he could still go home to Crowley with Sam being none the wiser. Of course, he’d tell him eventually, but they had enough on their plates right now.

“Great. And, uh, thanks. You stopped me from killing an innocent girl.”

“Hey, I know how it can be, coming back from Hell and seeing monsters everywhere. When it came down to it, though, you wouldn’t have actually killed her.”

“I was going to, though. I didn’t even think to try another way. But it was your first thought because you care, it’s who you are.”

“Come on, Sam, there’s no one more caring than you.”

“No, Dean. I’m telling you, it’s just better with you around. I’m glad to have you back.”

Dean eyed him uncertainly as he nodded. “Right. Well… call me if you find anything.”

“You too.”

Sam climbed into his car and Dean watched him drive away, wishing he could shake the feeling that something was wrong. He had his brother back, they were hunting together again, and currently, his relationship with Crowley wasn’t making everything more complicated than it needed to be. Couldn’t he just take a good thing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made up the bit of lore about silver not affecting werewolves until their first full moon; I think it's an interesting concept, and I'm fairly certain that it doesn't contradict anything in canon.


	4. Confession

“Are you sure there’s nothing you aren’t telling me?” Dean demanded as he burst into the study about a month later.

Crowley looked up from his desk irritably. “Dean, I’m working.”

“Don’t care.” He strode forward to lean over the desk, fixing him with a hard gaze. “Is there something about Sam you aren’t telling me?” He reiterated, his voice low and earnest.

His brow furrowed in confusion. “No, of course not.”

“Really? Sure you didn’t do anything to him when you had him brought back?”

“Why would I?”

“I don’t know, maybe to make him more complacent in doing your bidding?”

“Dean, I swear to you, I didn’t do anything to him,” he sighed. “What brought this on?”

Dean fell back into the chair across from the desk with a sigh. “Something’s off with him.” As much as he hadn’t wanted to think that Crowley had done something to his brother, the fact that it wasn’t his doing meant that he hadn’t the slightest idea what was going on. He was scared.

“You of all people know how Hell can change someone.”

He shook his head. “But it’s not like that. I thought maybe that was it at first, but that just doesn’t cover it.”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“Yeah, he says he’s fine. And he’s lying through his teeth.”

“Look, Castiel is the one who pulled him up. He’d be the one to talk to.”

“Well, I would, but he won’t answer me – phone or prayers.” An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. “You don’t think something happened to him? With Raphael?”

“He left me a drunk voicemail last night, so I’m pretty sure he’s fine.”

His eyebrows shot up. “A drunk voicemail? Cas?”

Crowley shrugged. “Mostly insulting me. Apparently, he doesn’t do too well with break-ups.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have slept with him, led him on.”

“I didn’t – I never said that I had _any_ feelings for him. It’s not my fault he read too much into things.”

Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. He was tired of having this conversation. “Have you tried calling him?”

“No. I thought we agreed that you’d do better with fixing things.”

“Yeah, but if he won’t talk to me, it’s kinda hard to do that.”

“Well, keep trying. And as for Sam, have you told him about us yet?”

“No,” Dean muttered, looking out the window.

“Right, because you’re all for keeping secrets.”

He glared at him. “It’s different,” he snapped. _“We_ don’t keep secrets from each other-”

“But you and Sam do. Right. Did you ever think that maybe if you told him your big secret, he might tell you his?”

“Or he might never talk to me again.”

“Or that.”

Dean groaned as he let his face fall into his face in his hands. “Why does everything have to be so damn complicated?”

Crowley sighed and stood up from his desk. Dean didn’t look up as he heard him walk around behind him, not until he felt hands beginning to massage his shoulders, coupled with a kiss to his head. He leaned into Crowley’s touch, letting his head rock back against the chair.

“It will all work out, Dean,” Crowley assured him softly.

“You’re awfully optimistic when everything’s going to shit,” he muttered.

“Lucifer seemed unstoppable… we stopped him. It seemed impossible that I would ever get you back… I did. You could say it’s opened my mind a bit.”

Dean managed a small chuckle. “So it’s my fault you’re so bright and cheerful, then, is it?”

“Yes.” He worked his shoulders in silence for a few seconds. “Have you considered that keeping us a secret from your brother is affecting things between the two of you – making it seem as though other problems exist?”

“You just really want me to tell him, don’t you?”

He hesitated. “I want to know that you consider this to be a real relationship.”

“I do. You should know that.”

“It’s just hard to believe when you’re keeping it from the most important person in your life.”

Dean tilted his head, looking back at him. “So, I must prove my commitment to you by telling Sam, huh?”

“It’s not just that. I can tell it’s bothering you, keeping it from him. It’s not fair to any of the three of us.”

He sighed as he stood up, dislodging Crowley’s hands from his shoulders in the process. “Guess you have a point,” he admitted, turning to face him from across the chair. “I’ll have him come out… we can tell him together.”

“Thank you, Dean.” He leaned in, pressing their lips together gently.

“You have to be on your best behavior, though,” Dean added when he pulled away.

The demon’s eyes widened innocently. “When am I not?”

* * *

 

Dean waited anxiously by the front door for his brother to arrive. He had texted him a few hours ago, as soon as he had finished his conversation with Crowley, asking him to come to the address.

‘Is it a case?’ Sam had replied.

‘No. Dinner. Need to tell you something.’

Sam had agreed and was expected to be there any second.

“Would you stop fidgeting?” Crowley asked from where he was leaned against the wall of the entryway, a little further back from the door than Dean was.

“I’m nervous, okay?” Dean snapped.

“What do you think he’s going to do? Never speak to you again?”

“Maybe. I wasn’t exactly understanding about him and Ruby.”

“Well, there’s a difference, isn’t there?”

There was something in Crowley’s voice that made Dean turn to look at him, and while someone else may not have been able to pick up on the hurt in his eyes, Dean certainly could. His expression softened. “Of course. I’m just not so sure he’s gonna see it that way.”

Crowley opened his mouth to reply, but then the control panel by the door buzzed, signaling that there was someone at the gate. “Hello?” Sam’s uncertain voice came through the speaker. “I think I’m supposed to meet my brother here?”

Dean pressed the button to open the gate as he replied. “Come on in, Sammy.”

A minute later, there was a knock at the door. “Hey, Sammy, thanks for coming,” Dean greeted him as he opened the door.

“Dean, what is this place?” Sam asked incredulously as he walked inside, freezing as his gaze landed on Crowley. “What the hell is Crowley doing here?”

“It’s my home,” Crowley answered, still keeping his distance, which Dean thought was probably a good idea.

“And I moved in a little over a month ago,” Dean added.

Sam’s gaze moved back to his brother. “You’re living with Crowley? Why?”

Dean sighed, unable to quite make eye-contact with Sam. “Because we’re, uh… we’re together.”

Sam just stared at him for a few seconds, then he turned on his heel and walked out the door. Dean sighed, resigning himself to what was about to come.

“Um… where is he going?” Crowley asked.

“To get holy water. He thinks I’m possessed.”

“Ah.” He took another step back.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, Sam came back through the door and then Dean was splashed in the face with holy water. He sighed exasperatedly as he ran a hand over his face. “Satisfied?”

“No. Why the hell are you dating Crowley?” Sam was incredulous, clearly unable to comprehend why his brother was dating a demon, and all of that Dean had expected. But something was still off. He had been sure that Sam would be furious, but the emotion was lacking from his question.

“Well, for starters, cause I love him.” He caught Crowley’s crooked grin out of the corner of his eye, but he kept his gaze fixed on his brother.

“But he’s a demon. After everything I went through with Ruby, you really think this is a good idea?”

“He’s nothing like Ruby, Sam. I mean, come on, without him, we might not have been able to stop the Apocalypse. He’s not like most demons.”

“I thought the same thing about Ruby.”

“Sam,” Crowley spoke up, taking a few steps towards the two of them. “I swear to you, I care for your brother more than I like to admit. I’m not using him.”

“Like you were using me, you mean?” Sam rounded on him. “Dean told me what you did. You had Cas bring me back just to use me to get into Purgatory.”

“Yes, and you can rest assured I got my ass chewed for it. I’m sure that Dean is still pissed at me.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dean confirmed.

“Bottom line is, that was when I was not dating Dean, and it will not be happening again.” Sam didn’t look convinced, so he continued. “Oh, for crying out loud, I gave up on getting into Purgatory because he asked me to! I _don’t do_ what people ask me to do! So, that should say something.”

“Sam, I didn’t think he was being genuine at first, either,” Dean added. “But he convinced me. And you know how untrusting I am of demons.”

“Which is why I don’t get what’s happening here.”

“Just… stay for dinner. Let us explain.”

When they sat down for dinner, Dean explained to him the full story of how he had gotten together with Crowley, back when he had thought him to be the human, Roderick, and how things had escalated from there. Sam listened, his gaze distrustful, but still not as angry as Dean had been expecting.

“And here we are,” Dean concluded. “So, yeah… I don’t expect you to get it, or even approve, I just, ya know, would appreciate it if you accepted it.”

Sam nodded slowly. “Alright.”

Dean blinked in surprise. “Alright?”

“Yeah…. I mean, I _don’t_ get it, but it’s your choice, I guess.”

He smiled, even as his stomach twisted, his instinct screaming at him once again that something was wrong. “Thanks. And I know I should have said something sooner, I just didn’t want to start a fight so soon after getting you back. But I don’t like there being secrets between us, and hey, no fight!” He eyed his brother hopefully.

“Yeah, I get that,” was all he said, though. Clearly, Dean’s admittance was not spurring Sam to confess his secret.

They ended up watching a movie after dinner, and then he managed to convince Sam to stay for the night, even though he had been set on leaving.

“Come on, man, it’s late. You’d just be driving to a motel. There’s no point. I promise Crowley is not going to kill you in your sleep.”

Sam sighed. “You’re not taking no for an answer, are you?”

“Nope.”

So, he showed Sam to a guest room, and then retired with Crowley to their room.

“Tell me something’s not off with him,” Dean said as he shut the door behind him.

Crowley sighed. “Perhaps a little bit, but I’m still not convinced it’s anything other than Hell.”

“I’m telling you-”

“Dean, he may not have been down there for as long as you, but he was still Michael and Lucifer’s chew toy for the equivalent of several months. That’s going to leave a nasty mark on his soul. Honestly, I’m surprised he’s functioning as well as he is.”

“It’s just… like tonight, I was expecting some kind of emotional outburst, and… nothing.”

“Did you never try to suppress your emotions after you got out of Hell?”

Dean looked down with a sigh. “Guess you’re right. I just can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.”

“And I’m not saying it’s impossible, I just don’t want you to obsess over this if there’s nothing there.”

He nodded as he walked over, wrapping his arms around Crowley’s waist as he managed a small grin. “Hmm… well, I have to obsess over _something…._ Any suggestions?”

Crowley smirked. “Oh… I’m sure I can think of something.”


	5. Truth

When Dean woke up the next morning, he was alone in the bed – unsurprising, as demons didn’t need to sleep. Most of the time, Crowley would lay with him until he fell asleep, then would go do whatever was on his agenda for the night. But sometimes he would let himself relax, slipping into the closest thing demons ever got to sleep, and those were Dean’s favorite nights.

He rolled over to see that Crowley was standing at the window, and even though he had his back to him, Dean could see how tense he was. “What’s wrong?”

Crowley hesitated. “Sam didn’t sleep last night.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “What?”

He turned around, his brow drawn in concern. “You know his room was right beside my study. I could hear him moving around all night, and when I saw him this morning, there was no hint that he was tired.”

“So, something is up.” Dean pushed himself up, out of bed, the worry that had faded slightly coming back full tilt.

“I suppose he could have been pulling an all-nighter,” Crowley suggested, but he didn’t sound convinced. “It doesn’t _necessarily_ mean-”

“But it probably means it. _Dammit.”_ He ran a hand through his hair as he turned back to his boyfriend. “What do you think it is?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ll help you figure it out, though. If it is anything.”

“Thank you.” He leaned down to peck him on the lips before he began getting ready for the day.

When they went down to the kitchen, Sam was already sitting at the table with his laptop. “Hey, I found us a case,” he greeted Dean.

“Ok, well, let me get something to eat first,” he grumbled as he opened up the fridge. “Eggs sound good?”

“Sure.”

He began making some scrambled eggs while Sam clicked away at his computer. Crowley leaned against the counter, alternating between watching Dean and scrutinizing Sam.

“So… you sleep well last night?” Dean asked after a minute.

“Yeah. Great.”

He looked at him over his shoulder. Well, he certainly _looked_ well-rested. He wondered if it was even really his brother sitting there and he felt sick at the thought.

“Tell me about the case.” He needed something to distract himself with while he and Crowley tried to figure out what was going on.

After they ate, he and Sam went to Illinois, where Dean began to think that he had caught his lucky break when he got hit with the truth whammy that was sweeping the town. But when he questioned Sam, his answers were just the same as they had always been, leading Dean to believe that there wasn’t anything wrong with him, after all. He was allowed just a few hours of relief before they were caught by the goddess of truth and she revealed that her truth spell didn’t work on Sam, claiming that he wasn’t human.

After they killed her, Dean stared at the thing in front of him, terrified and furious. Was it just something that looked like his brother? Was it using his body? _What was it?_

“It’s me, Dean,” possibly-Sam pleaded. “Look, please, just let me explain.”

“Why the hell should I believe anything you say?” he demanded.

“Okay, okay. You want the truth? Here it is. Here it is. God's honest. She was right. There's something wrong with me, really wrong. I've known it for a while. I lied to you.”

“If you knew something was wrong, why the hell did you lie about it?”

“It… just seemed easier. And I know I should feel guilty about it. But I – I just don’t _feel_ it.”

“You what?”

“Ever since I came back, I am a-a better hunter than I've ever been! Nothing scares me anymore! 'Cause I can't _feel_ it. I don't know what's wrong with me. I think... I need help.”

Dean remembered how surprised he had been the night before at the lack of emotion in Sam’s response. Apparently, it hadn’t just been his imagination. What the hell could be causing this? And he still wasn’t sure if the person in front of him could even be considered Sam. And the bastard had been lying to him, had been keeping from him something that, for all they knew, could have been getting worse with time. So yeah, he was pissed.

He ended up beating Sam unconscious before he called Crowley.

“Dean?” Crowley answered. “Everything okay?”

“No.” He gave him the run-down on what had happened. “I knocked him out. I’m gonna bring him home, and we can figure out what to do from there.”

“I’ll call Castiel… see if he’ll pick up for me.”

“Thank you.”

A little while later, Crowley helped Dean carry Sam inside and tie him to a chair in the living room.

“Any luck with Cas?”

Crowley shook his head. “I left him five voicemails, but I don’t know if he’ll listen to them.”

Dean nodded, pulling out his phone and calling Castiel, getting his voicemail. “Something’s wrong with Sam. And I know you’re pissed at me, and that’s fine, but please… Sam needs your help.” He took a deep breath as he hung up. “I hope that’ll do the trick.” It seemed pretty clear to him that Castiel was tuning out prayers altogether, so he knew calling him was their only shot. Nevertheless, he found himself sending out silent pleas to the angel, just in case.

Crowley shrugged. “If anything will, it’s that.”

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Castiel appeared in the living room. His gaze flicked quickly over Crowley and then rested on Sam as he frowned. “For the record, I am not ‘pissed’ at you, Dean. I just find it difficult to be around you right now. What’s wrong with Sam?”

Dean cleared his throat uncomfortably, stepping forward as Crowley drifted to the back of the room. “I was hoping you could tell us. He hasn’t been acting like himself, we just met the goddess of truth, and her mojo didn’t work on him – she said he wasn’t human. He claimed that he hasn’t been able to feel things properly since he got out of Hell.”

Castiel began questioning Sam as soon as he regained consciousness, during which Sam revealed that he hadn’t slept at all since he got out of the Cage. And then Castiel… well, it looked like he stuck his arm right into Sam’s chest.

“Did you find anything?” Dean asked when he pulled his arm back out.

“No,” he answered, still frowning at Sam.

“So, that’s good news?”

“I'm afraid not. Physically, he's perfectly healthy.”

“Then what?”

His gaze flickered down. “It’s his soul. It’s gone.”

“Bollucks,” Crowley cursed lowly from behind them.

Dean glanced between the two of them. “Um... I'm s- I'm sorry. One more time, like I'm 5. What do you mean, he's got no-”

Castiel didn’t quite look at him as he spoke. “Somehow, when Sam was resurrected, it was without his soul.”

“So, where is it?”

“My guess is... still in the Cage with Michael and Lucifer.”

“So, what?” Dean’s voice was slowly rising with his temper. “You didn’t think to check to make sure you had all of him before pulling him out?”

“I thought I had. I had no idea this could happen, but it is not as though pulling a human out of the Cage had ever been attempted before.”

“Is he even still Sam?”

“Well, you pose an interesting philosophical question.”

Dean shook his head. “Get it back.”

“Dean, it is not that simple.”

“I don’t give a damn! You got this much of him out, go back for the rest!”

“I _can’t!”_

He rounded on Crowley. “Give him another power boost.”

“I would if I could, Dean,” he answered quickly. “But… it was hard enough getting him in and out of the Cage the first time around. I won’t be able to manage it a second time. I’m sorry.”

“No. There has to be some way.”

“So, are you gonna untie me?” Sam spoke up.

“No,” Dean said firmly.

“Listen, I’m not gonna-”

Dean rounded on him. “Sam, how the hell am I even supposed to let you out of the house?”

“Dean, I’m not some psycho. We just killed that bitch _together._ I’ve still got your back. Please let me go.”

“You’re kidding, right?” How could he trust Sam to have his back when he clearly wasn’t capable of caring about anything or anyone?

“Well, what’re you gonna do? Just keep me locked up in here forever?”

Dean’s untrusting gaze was unwavering. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Okay, fine, look, I get it. I get it, Dean. I’ve made some bad choices since I came back. But I’m telling you, I-I’m trying to get it right. It’s still me.”

“Is it?” he asked skeptically.

“Yes. So just let me go.”

“No way in hell.”

Sam sighed. “I didn’t want it to come to this.” He rose to his feet, pulling the ropes off his wrists. “You're not gonna hold me, Dean – not here, not in a panic room, not anywhere. You're stuck with the soulless guy, so you might as well work with me.”

“Oh, I bet I could find a way to hold you,” Crowley muttered. “Easily.”

Dean’s expression grew thoughtful as he considered that, while Sam glared at the demon.

“How does being soulless rank worse than being a demon?” Sam demanded.

“Because I know I can trust him,” Dean answered without hesitation, ignoring the look of irritated disbelief that he was getting from Castiel.

“I believe that Sam is still significantly more trustworthy than Crowley,” Castiel argued coolly.

“Thanks, Cas.” Sam inclined his head toward the angel in a grateful nod before turning back to his brother. “See?”

Dean rolled his eyes irritably. “He’s biased.”

“So are you.”

“Still less biased than he is, trust me.”

“If you are seriously going to let Crowley imprison Sam, I will stop him,” Castiel said firmly.

Crowley scoffed while Dean rounded on him in disbelief. “You think I should just let him walk around like this?” he demanded.

“He is not harming anyone, is he?”

“How should I know? He’s completely unpredictable like this!”

“I wouldn’t hurt anyone, Dean,” Sam protested. “I know that’s wrong, even if I can’t feel it.”

“How can I believe anything you say to me? You told me nothing was wrong with you, and you’ve known this entire time.”

“And look at how you’re reacting! Can you blame me for trying to avoid this?” He shook his head. “Dean, all I want is to fix this. Honestly.”

Dean regarded him cautiously for a few seconds. His eyes were wide and honest, but what did that really mean at this point? Still, what other choice did he have? “I’m gonna be watching every move you make,” he finally said resignedly.

“Fine. Sounds about right to me.”

“Cas, clean him up.”

Castiel reached out a hand to heal him.

“So, how do we get his soul back?” He looked from Castiel to Crowley, but they were both silent. “Come on, you have to have something.”

“Sorry, but no,” Crowley said without quite looking at him.

“Well, we’ll figure something out, right?”

“If I know you, you won’t rest until you do.”

“Damn right. So, search for some answer in Hell, and Cas, you search in Heaven.”

“Of course,” Castiel said slightly bitterly as Crowley nodded. “Your problems always come first. I’ll be in touch.” There was a rustle of wings, and he was gone.

Dean shook his head. “You’d think he’d be a bit of a better sport, since this is sorta his fault.”

Sam shrugged. “He did say it was an accident.”

“Yeah, I know. He could still be more helpful, though.”

“Hey, we’ll fix this,” he assured him.

Right. If only he could trust anything he said, maybe that would be comforting.


	6. Theory

Needless to say, things over the next couple weeks were far from easy. Sam and Dean continued hunting together, but with Sam no longer pretending that everything was fine, it was even more obvious just how badly being without his soul was affecting him. Dean hardly recognized him half the time.

After one particularly exhausting hunt, Dean walked into the living room and collapsed to lay face-down on the couch, while Sam went up to the room Dean was making him stay in.

“Rough day at the office?” Crowley asked when he walked into the room a couple minutes later.

Dean groaned without looking up. “Please tell me you’ve got something.”

“I’m sorry, love. Pulling Sam’s body out of the Cage was dangerous enough, going back for his soul-”

“I get it. You and Cas can’t do it like you did last time. But there has to be some way. Someone else who can get his soul out.”

Crowley didn’t respond.

Dean sighed as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. “Cas!” he called. “Cas, get your feathery ass down here.”

“What is it?” Castiel asked as he appeared, standing on the opposite side of the couch from Crowley.

“Have you found a way to get Sam’s soul back?”

His slightly cold expression did not waver. “I have not.”

“Dammit, what have you been doing, then?” he demanded, too worried about his brother to think rationally about the situation.

Anger became a bit more pronounced on Castiel’s features. “Mostly fighting a civil war. But you’re right. Why should we be concerned about Raphael taking over Heaven? He only wants to reset the Apocalypse.”

“Could do without the sass, Cas. I get it, things are bad all around. But if you can help us get Sam’s soul back, then we can help you set things right in Heaven.”

He didn’t look at Dean as he shook his head. “I cannot agree to that.”

Dean frowned. “And why not?”

He hesitated for just a second. “I’m not sure that retrieving Sam’s soul is wise.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Wait, what? Why?”

“I want him to survive.”

He got to his feet and took a step closer to Castiel, fixing him with a steady gaze. “What are you talking about?”

Castiel turned to meet his eyes. “Sam’s soul has been locked in the Cage with Michael and Lucifer for more than a year. And they have nothing to do but take their frustrations out on him. You understand? If we try to force that mutilated thing down Sam’s gullet, we have no idea what will happen. It could be catastrophic.”

The weight that had settled in Dean’s stomach weeks ago grew heavier. “You mean he dies.”

“I mean, he doesn’t. Paralysis. Insanity. Psychic pain so profound that he’s locked inside himself for the rest of his life.”

He locked onto the one bit of hope he could fine. “But you’re saying you don’t know anything for sure. I mean, he could be fine.”

“He could be, yes.”

The weight eased slightly. “Okay then.”

“But I sincerely doubt it.”

“Well, if he’s not fine, then you fix him.”

“Dean, I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“Then you figure it out, Cas. Come on,” he pleaded desperately. “I mean, the guy’s a frigging replicant. He needs his soul. Look, we get it back. And if there are complications, then we will figure out a way to deal with those, too.”

“Of course…. Or we fail, and Sam suffers horrifically.”

“Really, Cas?” There was an edge of exasperation to his voice; he was getting sick of Castiel’s attitude toward this whole mess.

“I’m sorry. I do not wish to see what will become of Sam should we recover his soul.”

“Look, just because you have some theory-”

“A theory that is not unfounded. Crowley would be saying the same thing if he were not so concerned about ‘getting laid.’”

Dean blinked, spinning around to face Crowley. “What?” he demanded.

Crowley was glaring at Castiel with narrowed eyes. “How about you stop it with the drama, feathers? Do you want me to say sorry? Is that it? Because I’m not. It’s not _my_ fault you read too much into everything – I did nothing to indicate that I had any feelings for you whatsoever. And I certainly never thought you would fall for me.”

Castiel’s voice was cool as he responded. “I had never been intimate before, and to me it meant something. I certainly do not believe I would have fallen for you under ordinary circumstances.”

Dean looked between the two of them in mild disbelief. “Guys, this is not the time for this!” he snapped. “Have you two been talking about this deal with Sam’s soul behind my back?”

Crowley looked uncomfortable. “We exchanged a couple sentences when he stopped by last week on the likelihood that Sam getting his soul back would be… unhealthy.”

“And you didn’t feel like mentioning it to me?”

“You wouldn’t have listened, just as you aren’t listening to Castiel. The only thing it would have served to do would be to make you angry at me.”

“So, are either of you actually going to help me?”

“I will,” Crowley assured him.

“Because he is not concerned about Sam’s wellbeing,” Castiel stated. “I am. So, my apologies, Dean, but I will not assist you in mutilating him.” With that, he left.

Dean sighed, turning back to Crowley. “Okay, tell me what you’re honestly thinking.”

“Honestly? I don’t want to help you. It will just end up hurting you in the long run, and I have no desire to see that happen. But you won’t give up – you will put your life at risk trying to find a way to get his soul back. So, the way I see it, I have no choice.”

He nodded. “Right. Let’s get to looking, then.”

By the end of the day, they had an idea.

“And you’re sure you want to do this?” Crowley checked.

Dean took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure.” He got to his feet. “I’m just gonna go tell Sam, then go have a chat with Death.”

Crowley nodded. “Right. Well, I have some work I have to take care of. Call me if you need anything.”

He teleported away and Dean walked down the hall to Sam’s room. He opened the door and froze, his eyes wide in horror.

Castiel leapt away from Sam, to his feet, while Sam pulled a blanket over to cover himself up as he scowled at his brother. “You could knock,” he said as though Dean should have expected the possibility that his little brother would be having sex with an angel.

Dean opened and closed his mouth several times before he gained the ability to speak. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded furiously.

“Sam and I have been sleeping together for about a week now,” Castiel explained.

Dean’s gaze snapped to focus on him, and he immediately regretted it. He held up his hand in an attempt to block from view far more of Castiel than he had ever wanted to see. “You’re rebounding on my brother!” he accused hotly.

Castiel was unfazed. “Sam is aware of the situation and has no qualms. I would not be doing so otherwise.”

“He’s aware of the… Would you cover yourself up, _please?”_

Castiel blinked, then grabbed another blanket from the bed to wrap around his waist. “Yes, he is aware. When he asked me if I would be interested in sex, the first thing I did was made sure he understood that he would be a rebound. He assured me that he was perfectly okay with that, and since I had been quite missing having sex, and I was uncomfortable with the idea of engaging in intercourse with a stranger, engaging in it with Sam seemed-”

“Stop talking!” He shook his head. “You’re _using him,_ Cas!”

“Dean, it’s fine,” Sam said calmly as he shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, carefully keeping the blanket positioned over his lap as he did so. “It doesn’t mean anything to me either… obviously.”

“Yeah, _now._ What about when you get your soul back? He’s taking advantage of you, Sam!”

“It doesn’t feel that way.”

“Well, it is.” He turned back to Castiel. “If you were anyone else, I would kill you for this! Hell, I’m still tempted!”

“It is not as bad as you seem to believe it is,” Castiel reasoned.

“The hell it isn’t!”

“I assure you, Dean, I have no intention to hurt Sam in any way,” he said earnestly.

Dean scoffed. “You know, Cas, I get that you’re not human and there are some things that you just don’t get, but I’d think this would be the exception after what happened to you.”

His expression hardened slightly. “This is nothing like what happened to me, Dean. There are no false pretenses. Sam was able to make fully-formed decisions.”

“No, he wasn’t! He doesn’t have a soul! He’s not able to think clearly!”

“Yes, I am, Dean!” Sam protested.

“No, you’re not!” Dean shouted back without looking at him. “He’s not himself right now, and you know it! You’re using the fact that he can’t feel used to use him!”

“That is not true. I am merely aware of the fact that Sam will not be hurt by being a rebound, as I was.”

“Yeah, you’re taking advantage of him, just like I said.” A sudden realization hit him and his voice rose as he continued. “This is why you don’t want him to get his soul back. Because you’ll lose your fucktoy!”

“No,” he objected fervently. “It is entirely out of concern for his wellbeing.”

“I doubt that.”

Sam looked up at Castiel. “Cas, what do you mean you don’t want me to get my soul back out of concern for my wellbeing?”

“Don’t you dare tell him!” Dean ordered.

Castiel glared at him. “I will not keep this from him.” He turned to Sam. “Your soul is very damaged, Sam; forcing it back into you could be extremely detrimental to you.”

“You knew this?” Sam demanded of his brother.

“It’s just a theory,” he objected.

“One that Crowley agrees with,” Castiel pointed out.

Sam shook his head. “So, you’re willing to risk destroying me, just so that I’ll have a soul again?”

“We’ll figure it out, Sam,” Dean insisted, then directed his next comment at Castiel. “And until we do, I don’t want you anywhere near my brother, you hear me? And maybe not even after.”

“Don’t listen to him, Cas.”

“Oh no, you’d better listen to me, Cas. Cause I don’t care what I have to do, I will find a way to keep you away from him.”

Castiel remained expressionless as he spoke. “I believe it would be best if I gave you two some space, for the moment.”

“And you’d better stay away, got it? I’ll call you once he’s got his soul back.”

He said nothing before he flew off.

“Dean, that’s not happening,” Sam said decisively as he got up and began pulling on his clothes.

Dean’s gaze snapped back to him. “What?” he demanded.

“If getting my soul back is going to-”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“You know what? When angels and demons agree on something, call me nuts, I pay attention.”

“Sam-”

Now fully dressed, Sam turned to look him in the eyes. “I don’t think I want it back.”

“You don’t even know what you’re saying,” he tried to say in a soothing tone, but some panic creeped into his voice.

“No, I’m saying something you don’t like. You obviously care, a lot. But I think maybe I’m better off without it.”

“You’re wrong. You don’t know how wrong you are.”

“I’m not sure about that.” He pushed past Dean, walking out of the room and off in the direction of the stairs.

“Sam, don’t walk away. Sam! Sam!” He chased after him, but with a head start and longer legs, Sam was already in his car by the time he reached him. “Sam!” he called again as the car took off down the driveway.

Dean considered getting in the Impala and chasing after him, but what would be the use? The best thing he could do for Sam right now was find Death and hope the horseman would get his soul back. He pulled out his phone and called Crowley, leaving him a voicemail. “Hey, Sam’s gone AWOL. If you get a chance, could you please track him down? Hopefully he’ll have his soul back soon, but just in case. Thanks.”

Now if only putting in a phone call to Death were so easy.


	7. Risk

Dean went back home after he failed Death’s little test, hoping to find that Crowley had located Sam and brought him back. When he saw that no one was home, he wasn’t surprised, though; it was just the way this day was going. His best friend (if he could still call him that) was using his brother, said brother was still AWOL, and he had just screwed up his one chance to get Sam’s soul back. What would go wrong next?

“Dean.” He spun around to see Death standing behind him, eating a hot dog. Great.

But it wasn’t the bad news he had been expecting. Apparently, all Death had really wanted was for him to learn a lesson about life and death, and now he would give Sam’s soul back and build a wall against the Hell memories free of charge.

As soon as Death left, Dean ran back out to the Impala, pulling his phone out and calling Crowley as he pulled out of the driveway. He answered on the first ring. “You need to come to Bobby’s.”

Dean blinked in surprise, the words he had been about to say dying on his tongue. “What? Why?”

“Sam’s here. Just come.”

That was good enough. He hung up as his speed steadily increased.

He hadn’t the slightest idea what Sam and Crowley would be doing at Bobby’s. Sure, on any other day, Sam might go there, even soulless, but surely not when he was running away from Dean. Bobby was one of the people he would have enlisted to help find him, and Sam would know that. And Crowley definitely wouldn’t choose to go there. Dean hadn’t even gotten around to telling Bobby that he was dating the demon. He wondered what he had thought when Crowley had shown up there. He highly doubted, at this point, that Sam would vouch for him. But he was clearly well enough to answer his phone, so that was something.

Thankfully, he didn’t live too far from Bobby’s, so at the speed he was driving, he made it there in just over an hour. He jumped out of the car and nearly ran up to knock on the door.

Bobby answered after just a couple knocks. “You’ve got some explainin’ to do, boy.”

Dean’s expression was sheepish as he glanced over Bobby’s shoulder to see Crowley wave at him from where he leaned against the entrance to the library. “Right…” he muttered as he walked into the house, glancing around as he did. “Where’s Sam?”

“Panic room.”

Dean’s eyes widened with alarm as they snapped back to Bobby. “What happened?” he demanded.

He hesitated, seeming reluctant, so Crowley spoke up. “When I got here, he was about to kill Bobby.”

 _“What?”_ No. Surely even like this Sam wouldn’t kill _Bobby._ Why would he try to?

“When I got your message, I started thinking of where Samantha might have run off to. Then I remembered the one sure way to scar a vessel beyond its ability to possess a soul… patricide. So, I came here.”

Dean closed his eyes against the information he was being forced to process. Sam really had tried to kill Bobby. Had nearly succeeded, from the sound of it. He felt sick. “Thank you,” he finally muttered when he opened his eyes again.

Crowley nodded.

“Alright, so are you goin’ to tell me what the hell is going on?” Bobby demanded. “Why do I suddenly have a guardian demon?”

“Later,” Dean deflected. “When’s the last time you checked on Sam?”

“Just a few minutes ago. He’s unconscious.”

He nodded. “Kay, well, Death shoulda gotten his soul back by now. I’m gonna call Cas, so he can check him out.” He felt even more sick as he called Castiel, hating that he was inviting the angel to come anywhere near his brother. But who else could he call?

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel’s cool voice greeted him.

“Sam’s got his soul back, and before you pitch a fit, Death put up a wall to block out all the Hell stuff. We’re at Bobby’s. I need you to come play doctor again, but not the kinky kind, got it?”

Crowley raised his eyebrows and Bobby frowned.

It was a few seconds before Castiel replied. “Of course,” he finally sighed, almost sounding sad. He was probably just disappointed he wouldn’t get to screw with Sam anymore.

Crowley cleared his throat as Dean hung up. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

“Oh yeah, Cas was taking advantage of Sam’s soullessness to use him as a rebound.”

Under other circumstances, the flabbergasted expression on Crowley’s face might have been amusing. Now, not so much. “Yeah,” Dean continued bitterly. “I got to walk in on that. No amount of mind bleach is getting _that_ out of my head.”

“I wasn’t aware that Cas dated,” Bobby said, a tad uncertainly.

“He doesn’t. Just has poorly advised sex.”

“Well. That’s… surprising.”

Dean grunted his agreement and a moment later there was the whoosh of wings and Castiel appeared beside him. “Where is Sam?”

“Panic room,” Dean spat as he rounded on him. “Apparently, he tried to kill Bobby. Wasn’t it you who said him being soulless wasn’t hurting anyone?”

Castiel had the nerve to look understanding at that. “He was trying to prevent you from forcing his soul back in.”

“Oh, so that makes it okay?”

“Of course not. But I do not believe he would have done such a thing, had he not be driven to it.”

“It wasn’t Dean’s fault,” Crowley growled.

“That is not what I was saying,” Castiel argued without looking at him.

“You were insinuating it.”

Now he turned to him, a small, self-satisfied smirk on his face. “I suppose it is your turn to read something that isn’t there, then.”

“Can we just go check on Sam?” Dean sighed, already turning and heading for the stairs.

Castiel and Crowley followed him downstairs, the latter waiting outside the panic room while the other two went in. Dean tried to calm his nerves as he approached his unconscious brother. Surely everything would be okay now. It had to be.

“Hey, Sam.” He leaned down to shake his arm, but he didn’t stir. “Sammy. Sam!” Nothing. His own heart banging wildly against his ribs, he pressed his fingers to Sam’s neck to feel for his pulse. It was a little erratic, but it was definitely there. Dean let out a sigh of relief as he turned around to face Castiel. “Check him out.” He didn’t give him a chance to respond before walking out of the room.

“He’s not waking up,” Crowley guessed when Dean approached him.

“Yeah…. He will though, right?” He looked at Crowley, desperate for reassurance.

He pressed his lips together. “You did everything you could, Dean.”

“Yeah, and a load of crap that is unless he’s okay.”

“You said Death put up a wall, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then he should be fine.”

Dean sighed as he leaned against the wall. “I hope so.” He shook his head. “So, what did you tell Bobby?”

“Not much. I had just saved his life, so there was only so much of a fuss he could kick up. Though he does have a talent for it. I told him you’d explain it – figured he’d take it better from you.”

“Right. Not sure there’s anything that could make him take it better.”

“Well, he’s at least more likely to believe it from you.”

“Yeah, I just… don’t know if now’s the time.”

Crowley huffed as he looked down at the ground. “Course not,” he muttered.

“Hey, don’t-” He started to snap at him, but stopped as soon as the panic room door opened, his gaze snapping to Castiel. “Well?” he demanded.

Castiel’s face was expressionless. “His soul is in place.”

“Is he ever gonna wake up?”

“I’m not a human doctor, Dean.”

“Could you take a guess?” he pressed.

“Okay. Probably not.”

It felt as though he had been punched. “Oh, well, don’t sugarcoat it.”

“I'm sorry, Dean, but I warned you not to put that thing back inside him.”

“What was I supposed to do? Let T-1000 walk around, hope he doesn't open fire?”

Castiel took a step closer. “Let me tell you what his soul felt like when I touched it. Like it had been skinned alive, Dean. If you wanted to kill your brother, you should have done it outright.” Dean looked away as he flew off.

“Don’t listen to him.” Crowley placed a hand on his shoulder.

“What if he’s right?”

“You would never have been able to live with yourself if you didn’t take the risk.”

He knocked Crowley’s hand off his shoulder as he rounded on him. “And how the hell am I supposed to live with myself if this doesn’t pan out?” he spat.

Crowley’s gaze remained steady, despite Dean’s outburst. “Let’s go upstairs. Get you a drink.”

“Yeah, okay,” he sighed.

“How is he?” Bobby asked when they walked into the library, pouring a second glass of whiskey as he spoke. Dean took the glass as he sat down across from him at his desk, while Crowley leaned up against the wall by the entrance.

“Probably suffering. Might never wake up. But he has his soul back, so there’s that.” He downed half the glass in one drink.

“Where’s Cas?”

“Left.”

“And he’s still here?” His gaze flickered to Crowley, then back to Dean.

“I don’t feel like getting into this right now,” he groaned.

Bobby sighed. “Dean, he’s been through how much? Somehow, he always bounces back.”

“He’s never been through this.”

They both went silent, and the minutes drug on, feeling more like hours. He hated this, the not knowing. It was like Schrodinger’s brother, where Sam was both perfectly alright and damaged beyond repair.

He wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed when a voice spoke from behind him that was definitely not Crowley. “Dean.”

His glass slammed down on the table and he spun around, getting to his feet. “Sam?”

His brother ran forward, pulling him into a hug. Now that felt more like Sam. The relief that had been so clear on his face, the way he held onto him now. _This_ was his brother. Dean almost sagged in relief.

Bobby walked around the desk, and Sam let go of Dean to hug him. “Good to see you,” Bobby said.

“Wait,” Sam suddenly pulled back, his eyes wide. “I saw you — I — I felt Lucifer snap your neck.”

“Well, Cas kind of-”

“Cas is alive?” he gasped.

Dean’s eyes grew wide. He didn’t remember anything, did he? But maybe that was a good thing. At least he wouldn’t have to deal with how Castiel had used him. “Yeah, Cas — Cas is fine. Sam, are you okay?”

“Actually, um… I’m starving.” He turned around and froze. “What the hell is Crowley doing here?”

Oh, crap. Maybe it wasn’t so good. Dean knew it wouldn’t be as easy to explain things this time around. “Oh, um, he was just – just helping out with something,” he said quickly. “But he’s leaving now, right?” He shot Crowley a desperate glance, and the look he got in return was livid. If demons had heat vision, he’d be a pile of ashes right now. Instead, he just flushed.

Sam rounded on him, eyes wide and panicked. “Dean, what did you _do?”_

He quickly caught up with Sam’s train of thought. From his perspective, he had apparently just come back from the dead and there was a crossroads demon in the house. Two plus two makes deal. “No, no, I didn’t…” He tried to come up with a reasonable explanation, but Crowley spoke up first, his expression once again neutral.

“I owed Dean a favor. I was just paying up.”

Dean sighed, guilt creeping up on him. Crowley hated lying about this, and yet here he was, jumping to his defense. It wasn’t fair to him. “That’s not true.” He met Crowley’s surprised gaze. “Thanks, but… you’re right. We should tell them.” He looked at Bobby, then Sam. “Crowley’s my boyfriend. We’ve been together for a couple months now.”

“What?” Bobby demanded.

Sam’s expression was furiously incredulous. “Dean you’re… _what the hell are you thinking?”_

Dean almost laughed, the corner of his lips twitching up as he held back. Because while he hated the situation, how different Sam’s reaction was from the last time just drove home the point that he was back to normal. “I’m thinking that I love him,” he answered calmly.

“You love him?! Dean, it’s _Crowley!_ He’s a freakin’ demon!”

“And I know what you’re thinking,” he said placatingly. “But I trust him completely. He’s not trying to use me or anything like that; I’d know.”

“Oh, you’d know, huh? You didn’t trust me to know with Ruby – and fine, you were right – but you always know best, right?” He shook his head, half turning away from him.

“Sam, that’s not fair. You know that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean, then?” He turned back to him, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Just that… Crowley’s different. He was on our side in the Apocalypse! We’ve seen how different he is from most demons.”

“But he’s still a demon! He’ll still hurt you.”

“No, I won’t,” Crowley said firmly as he stepped forward, and Sam turned his hateful gaze on him. “I would never hurt him, Sam. And I’ve already given up a lot to be with him, so don’t you dare try to twist my feelings for him into something else.”

“And I’m supposed to just take your word on that?”

“That’d be nice, but somehow, I don’t see that happening. But if you have a problem with me, take it up with _me._ Dean just got you back, so let him enjoy that, would you? Fight with me, not him.”

Some of the anger in Sam’s expression faded away. “Why?” he asked suspiciously.

“Because I care. But you won’t believe that, so fill in the blank with whatever makes you feel better.”

“Dean,” Bobby spoke up gently, and Dean tore his awestruck gaze away from Crowley to face him. “You sure about this?”

“Completely,” he said, communicating with his eyes just how sure he was. “He’s come through for me every time I needed him, and… I know how he feels about me, and what it cost for him to admit it. He’s not getting anything out of this. Really, he’s putting a lot at risk.”

“You promised me you’d go to Lisa,” Sam said softly.

“And I did.” He turned back to him. “But it didn’t work out. Not my kind of life.”

“So, you left her for Crowley?”

“It was a little more complicated than that. I’ll tell you the full story when you’re ready to listen.”

Sam nodded. “I still don’t trust him.”

“I know. But hopefully you’ll get over that.”

“Shall I go?” Crowley asked. “Let you catch up?”

“Yeah. I’ll call you when I’m on my way home.”

Crowley was gone with a snap of his fingers, and Sam was arching an eyebrow at him. “Home?”

“Yeah, I’m living with him. And I’m still alive, lookie there.”

Sam sighed. “I have a lot to get caught up on, don’t I?”

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, you do.”


	8. Apology

Things weren’t perfect, there was no pretending they were, but with Sam’s soul back in place, Dean felt like he was finally able to take a deep breath and relax for the first time in a while. Of course that couldn’t last, though. The next day at breakfast, Sam started apologizing for the things he had done while soulless, explaining that none other than Castiel had spilled the beans the night before.

Dean wasn’t sure what pissed him off more, the fact that Castiel had come anywhere near Sam, or the fact that he had revealed information that could kill him. Death had said that the wall he built wasn’t a fix-all; if Sam scratched at it, if he remembered too much, that was it.

“Cas, get down here!” he called as soon as he had some time alone.

Castiel appeared in front of him, his eyes on the ground. “Yes?”

“What all did you tell him?” he demanded without preamble.

“I… told him most of it.”

“Except that you two were sleeping together, right? Cause the stuff that would be dangerous for him to know is fair game, but anything that might make you look bad…” He trailed off as Castiel looked up at him, his expression dismayed.

“You were right, Dean. I shouldn’t have slept with him.”

“No shit.”

“It seemed reasonable while he was soulless – he wanted it, and there was no chance of him getting hurt. But I never thought that this would happen – that he would be okay. When I saw him last night – once it became apparent that he had no memory of his time spent soulless – all I could think was that if he found out what had happened between us, he would not be talking to me as he was, would probably not even be able to look at me. I am not sure how to face him now. I feel… awful.”

“You should.”

He nodded in agreement. “So, what do I do?”

Dean scoffed. “I ain’t cleaning up your mess for you. Just know that if you hurt Sam, I will kill you.”

Castiel’s jaw set resolutely. “I won’t hurt him.” The words sounded more like a vow to himself, so Dean merely nodded.

They stood in the living room in an awkward silence for a few seconds. Dean kept expecting Castiel to fly off, but he didn’t, and Dean wasn’t sure what to say after all that had transpired over the last few days. Finally, Castiel spoke up. “Dean… I am glad that you got Sam’s soul back. I am sorry I was not more willing to help.”

“Well, I managed just fine without you. So, is your guilt appeased? We done here?”

“Dean, I am not simply trying to appease my guilt. I-” He broke off abruptly as Sam walked into the room.

“Dean? Oh, hey, Cas.” He greeted the angel with a smile.

“Hello, Sam.” Castiel took a half-step towards him before stopping.

“Dean, do you mind if I take the Impala out?” He had left his car at Bobby’s the previous night in favor of riding with Dean. He had almost opted to stay at Bobby’s himself, but Dean had convinced him to come. And with Crowley out working all morning, there hadn’t even been risk of either of them starting a fight. “If I’m going to be staying here, I need to do some grocery shopping.”

“What do you need?” Castiel asked before Dean could so much as open his mouth. “I could get it for you.”

Sam blinked in surprise, while Dean raised his eyebrows. “Uh… thanks, Cas, but you don’t have to do that. I could do with getting out.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “But let me know if there is anything that I can do to help.”

Dean ran his hand over his face in exasperation. It didn’t stop there, either. Castiel’s first priority was still the war in Heaven, but a close second was Sam. It seemed as though anytime Sam so much as sneezed, Castiel was there with a tissue. It was as though he thought by buttering up Sam, he would be able to make up for what he had done. Dean found it irritating, Crowley found it amusing, and Sam found it extremely confusing.

“Is Cas being… different with you lately?” Sam asked a couple weeks later as he and Dean were on their way to a case.

“Nope,” Dean answered curtly, hoping to avoid the inevitable conversation.

“Huh… I wonder why he’s being so different with me.”

“Guilt.”

“What?” Sam’s head tilted in confusion. “Why would he feel guilty?”

Dean shrugged, easily coming up with another reason. “He brought you back with no soul. He feels bad.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Oh…. Are you mad at him over that?”

“No. Course not. It was an accident.” And it was the truth. Dean didn’t blame him for that. He had enough other things to be mad at him over that he hardly even thought about that anymore.

“What’s the deal, then? You go cold every time Cas is brought up, and whenever you’re in a room together, you barely talk.”

He sighed. “We just… haven’t been getting along the greatest lately.”

“Why not?” Sam pressed, persistent as ever.

At least he had a back-up excuse for this, too. “Um, you know how I told you Crowley and I had a thing before I found out he was a demon? Well, he rebounded with Cas. And he didn’t imply anything outside of sex, but I guess just sex never occurred to Cas, so he thought… I dunno, that they were together or something. And then suddenly, I was back in Crowley’s life, and Cas found out that he never meant anything to him.”

Sam’s expression grew incredulous. “Cas and Crowley? No… surely, he wouldn’t be that stupid…. No offense,” he added quickly.

“Right,” Dean muttered, not sure he believed that. “Well, they pretty well hate each other now, and Cas and I… yeah, we’ve had our issues.”

“You’re seriously letting Crowley come between you two?”

“No! No, it-it’s not just Crowley. We just haven’t really been seeing eye-to-eye. It’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“Well, it’s between Cas and me, okay? We’re here,” he swiftly cut off any further questions as he pulled into the parking lot of the hospital.

Things were rocky, to say the least, but it still could be worse. And despite their large abundance of issues, the four of them continued working together. Considering that Dean was the only one who got along with Crowley, and Sam was the only one who got along with Castiel, it was a miracle that they actually managed to defeat Raphael. But they did, and that put everyone in much better spirits.

“Hey, this calls for a drink. What do you say?” Dean asked the others as they walked back out to the Impala.

Castiel hesitated. “I am sure there is business that I should attend to in Heaven.”

Dean rolled his eyes “Can’t it wait till tomorrow? Come on, man. Raphael’s gone, and I know we haven’t all been on the best of terms lately, but surely we can put that aside for one night and celebrate.”

“Please, Cas?” Sam asked hopefully, giving him his best puppy dog eyes. “If you don’t come, I’ll be stuck with the two of them.”

“Hey!” Dean protested.

Castiel smiled. “Alright. I suppose Heaven can wait.”

Sam sat in the backseat with Castiel and let Crowley take shotgun, and the ride home passed with easy conversation, mostly contained to their respective halves of the car, but not entirely. When they got home and Crowley poured them all a glass of outrageously expensive Scotch, Dean couldn’t help but think that maybe things were looking up. Both Sam and Castiel were behaving cordially with Crowley, and Castiel had been genuinely trying to make up for everything he had done, so Dean was thinking maybe it was time he forgave him.

“We make one kick-ass team, ya know?” Dean praised a couple drinks later.

“We did do well today,” Castiel agreed. “I appreciate all three of yours help.”

“Course. Raphael had it coming.”

“Well, so long as the Apocalypse is officially off the table, I’m happy,” Crowley said. “I’m assuming you’re taking over in Heaven?”

“I suppose so. If the other angels deem it appropriate, of course. Though, truthfully, I am not sure that I am the best angel for the job.”

“I think you’ll be a great leader, Cas,” Sam assured.

“Thank you, Sam. And on that note, I should probably go check in. I will be back later, if all goes smoothly.”

“See ya later,” Dean said, while Sam wished, “Good luck.”

“You checking out, too, or are you cool with being stuck with us two?” Dean asked his brother after Castiel flew off.

Sam rolled his eyes. “I think I can stick it out for a bit.”

While Sam’s opinion of Crowley clearly had not improved much, they were all still able to enjoy themselves for the next couple of hours. When Crowley’s hints that there was something else he’d enjoy even more became progressively less subtle, though, Sam suggested they turn in.

All in all, it was a great night, and Dean was in a pretty good mood when he went downstairs later for a snack. Or, he was until he walked in front of the living room and movement out of the corner of his eye caused him to look twice. Sam and Castiel were standing a few feet inside the room, lips locked together, and Sam’s hands resting on his waist. Suddenly, instead of feeling happy and at ease, Dean’s stomach was in his throat.

“No. No, this is _not_ happening.”

They immediately broke away from each other, though Sam’s hands remained in place.

Castiel’s eyes widened in mild horror. “Dean, I, uh-”

“Get the hell away from my brother.” Dean’s voice was ice cold when he spoke.

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed in incredulity. “Dean, it’s _Cas._ You seriously have a problem with this?”

“Yes. Yes, I do. Cas, I was ready to put everything that happened in the past, but now _this?”_

Castiel looked down as he took a step back, causing Sam’s arms to drop to his sides. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

Sam’s wide-eyed gaze snapped back to him. “Cas, you have no reason to be sorry!”

“Yes, Sam, I do…. I… I messed up.”

“If this is about leaving my soul in Hell, it was an accident! I don’t blame you for it!”

“That is not what this is about,” Castiel explained hesitantly. “It is about what happened when you were without your soul – something that I have neglected to tell you because I did not want to admit to it. I… took advantage of the fact that you did not have a soul, that you could not feel attachment, and… used you for sex. I missed getting it from Crowley, but I did not like the idea of getting it from a stranger, or entering into a relationship. You offered because you had no soul, and I made excuses as to why it was okay. I didn’t think you would ever get your soul back.” He looked up at him, his expression forlorn. “The last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you, Sam.”

Sam shook his head in disbelief as he backed away. “So, is that all this is here? Just trying to get back to how things were when I was soulless?”

He shook his head desperately. “No, Sam-”

“You told me you begged Dean not to put my soul back. Is that why? I liked you, Cas! Before I went to Hell and lost my soul, I had feelings for you! I trusted you not to do something like-”

“Sam, I am so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“You knew it was wrong! But you did care enough about me for that to matter. I… I can’t do this.” He turned away, not looking at either of them as he left the room and nearly sprinted upstairs.

Castiel sadly watched him go, then sighed. “I… I deserved that.”

Dean looked away from the bottom of the stairs, focusing again on Castiel. “Yeah. You did,” he said bluntly.

He hesitated. “What you walked in on, Dean, it wasn’t like last time. I… I have been getting closer to him, and have begun to fall for him.”

“Well, sorry to break it to you, but nothin’s gonna happen.”

“I know.”

There was a pause in which Dean once again expected Castiel to leave, but he didn’t. “At least you have a fixed up Heaven to go back to,” Dean hinted.

“Yes…. I suppose this is goodbye, Dean.”

“Yep. Bye.”

Castiel’s defeated gaze met his. “I… sincerely hope everything turns out well for you.”

He nodded. “Yeah. You too.”


	9. Peace

Sam mostly kept to himself for the next couple of days, and not at all to Dean’s surprise, when Sam did finally initiate conversation, it was to bring up a hunt.

“Not a lot to go on,” Dean noted. “You sure it’s our kind of thing?”

“You sure it’s not?” Sam countered. “It could be a demon.”

Crowley cleared his throat. “So quick to accuse, moose.”

“What’s wrong, Crowley?” Sam rounded on him with his bitch face. “Got something to hide?”

He rolled his eyes. “If it is a demon, they’re not following my orders. So, by all means, go ahead and investigate. I’d be more than happy to let you clean up the mess for me.”

Dean sighed. “Let’s go check it out,” he said before Sam could retort.

The case did, in fact, turn out to be nothing, but so long as it got Sam’s mind off Castiel for a bit, Dean wasn’t complaining.

“You want to talk about it?” Dean asked on the drive back, after Sam had once again gone silent.

Sam stared out the side window in silence for a couple of seconds before responding. “What’s there to talk about?”

“What Cas did was-”

“Wrong. Yeah. I know.”

Dean took a deep breath. “Right. But if I know you, you’re going to find a way to twist it back on yourself – say you deserved it, or whatever. But you didn’t, Sam. He took advantage of you, and you _did not_ deserve it.”

Sam was silent for so long that Dean began to think he wasn’t going to respond. “I asked for it, though.” He turned to meet Dean’s questioning glance. “According to Cas, it was my idea.”

“You didn’t have a soul, it didn’t count. And he knew that. The fault still lies on him.”

“And I get that, but… a part of me can’t help but think… I actually slept with Cas.” He let out a huff of air as he shook his head. “I love him, Dean. I still do, I just… don’t know how to be around him, anymore. And I had been starting to think that I actually had a shot, and now this. Serves me right for thinking I could actually have happiness, I guess.”

“Hey, don’t do that. I don’t know what the future holds for you, no one does, but I do know that if anyone deserves to be happy, you do. And the universe is even more screwed up that I thought if you don’t get that happiness.”

“Thanks,” Sam muttered as he turned to look out the window again. Dean knew that he didn’t believe him, and he knew that there wasn’t anything he could say to make him. He’d be the same way if he was in Sam’s shoes.

Really, he had been in Sam’s shoes before. He had thought he had finally found happiness with Crowley – or Roderick, as he had thought him to be at the time – and then he had found out that they guy he loved was a demon, and he was sure that his shot at happiness was ruined. And now here he was, dating the King of Hell and happier than he had ever been. Even though it had seemed impossible, things had worked out with him and Crowley. And if they could make it work, so could Sam and Castiel. While Dean was still adverse to the idea of having the angel anywhere near his brother, if it was what would make Sam happy, he wasn’t about to stand in their way if they got a second chance.

For now, though, Sam was burying himself in hunting so that he wouldn’t have to think about Castiel. It went on for months, Sam jumping on every potential case he found – some turned out to be actual cases, others just freak accidents. This particular case, Dean had been pretty certain would fall into the freak accident category. Maybe if he’d taken it more seriously, this wouldn’t have happened.

“Come on, Sammy, wake up!” He tapped his cheek with one hand while the other applied pressure to the claw marks along his torso. _“Damnit!”_

Dean had killed the Wendigo, but not before it had gotten in a good swipe at Sam. The cuts were deep, and he had already lost too much blood for comfort. To make matters worse, the mining shaft had caved in, and while Dean could dig a way out, he didn’t think Sam had that long.

If Crowley could teleport them out to somewhere Dean could patch Sam up, though, everything should be fine. He fished his phone out of his pocket and cursed again when he saw that he had no signal.

Well, there was only one option left.

He screwed his eyes shut and prayed. “Castiel… I, uh… I know we’re not really on speaking terms, but Sam and I are trapped, and he’s hurt bad. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get us out in time. Please, if you care about him at all-”

“I’m here, Dean.”

His eyes snapped open to see the angel kneeling down on the other side of Sam, his face drawn in concern. He reached out his hand to cup Sam’s cheek, and all of his wounds were instantly healed, though he remained unconscious.

“He will be alright,” Castiel assured. “But the blood loss still took a toll on him, and it will take him some time to wake up.”

Dean let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, man.”

“Of course.” His eyes trailed back down to Sam, his expression tender.

Dean cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Um… don’t suppose you can snap us out-” Mid-sentence they had gone from the mining shaft to right outside the Impala. “-of here…. Thanks.”

Castiel nodded as he rose to his feet. “I suppose you want me to leave now?”

He hesitated. “Actually… it’d be good to have someone ride with Sam in the back – to watch out for him, in case he wakes up disoriented, or something…. Would you mind?”

“Not at all.”

Castiel easily maneuvered Sam into the backseat, positioning him to lay down as much as his abnormally tall body would allow. His torso was across the angel’s lap, his head slightly cushioned with Castiel’s hand between it and the door.

Castiel glanced up and caught Dean’s frown in the rearview mirror. “This is the most practical way to position him.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean muttered reluctantly as he tore his gaze away and started the car.

He drove for several minutes in an uncomfortable silence, until he decided he couldn’t take it anymore. “So… how’s Heaven?”

“Better. Nothing is ever perfect, but nobody is trying to reset the Apocalypse, so that is good enough for me.”

“You top dog up there?”

“I am leading the angels, yes.”

Dean nodded; even with all the issues he had been having with Castiel, he was glad that he was the one in charge in Heaven. They had gone through a lot together, and despite everything, Dean still cared about him and knew that he was the best angel out there. He was proud of him for stepping up. “Well… as far as angels go, you’re probably the best candidate for the job,” he admitted.

He caught Castiel’s surprised smile in the mirror. “Thank you, Dean. That means a lot.”

“You’re still the only angel I trust, Cas.”

“I didn’t think you trusted me, anymore.”

Dean shrugged. “Somewhat.”

Castiel nodded understandingly. “How are things for you?” he shifted the conversation.

“Good. I mean, nothing’s trying to kill us or end the world, so far as we know, so that’s good.”

“And you are still with Crowley?” he asked curiously.

Dean glanced back at him, his gaze turning slightly cool as he prepared for the oncoming judgement. “Sure am.”

The only change in Castiel’s expression, though, was his brow furrowing slightly. “I did not think the two of you would last so long.”

He scoffed. “Well, what can I say? I’m pretty damn happy with him.”

There was a half-second’s pause. “I’m glad.”

Dean blinked in surprise. “You are?”

“That you are happy, yes. As far as the matter of it being Crowley goes… well, I have no room to judge.” He offered the surprised hunter a wry smile.

“Uh… thanks.”

Castiel nodded. “Has Sam accepted it?”

“More or less. I mean, he’s never gonna like Crowley, but I think he’s come to terms with the fact that he’s not going anywhere.”

It was several seconds before Castiel spoke again. “And… how is Sam doing?”

Dean sighed. “The usual… spending every spare second hunting so that he doesn’t have to think about anything that’s bothering him.”

“Like me.”

“Yeah. Like you.”

Castiel looked down at Sam’s currently peaceful face. “I swore I wouldn’t hurt him, and-”

“You didn’t mean to.”

He looked up in surprise.

“Look, I’m not excusing what you did. I’m still pissed about it. But I know you never wanted to hurt him. And he knows it, too.”

“But it doesn’t make any difference,” he sighed sadly.

“I don’t know about that. He still loves you, man.”

He glanced down at Sam, then back to Dean. “How?”

Dean chuckled. “Beats me. I’m not saying you should try going for it again – not yet, at least – but… Sam’s the most forgiving person I know. He might just give you another chance.”

He shook his head slightly. “I don’t deserve it.”

“No, you don’t. But it’s Sam.”

They slipped into a more comfortable silence, Metallica humming in the background. They were about half an hour from the house when Sam began to stir. He blinked up at Castiel, who tensed and leaned back as much as the seat would allow. “Cas? What…?” He pushed himself up so that he was sitting on the other side of the car, looking back and forth between Dean and Castiel in confusion.

Castiel glanced at Dean, catching his eye in the review mirror, and the hunter nodded, signaling that the angel should be the one to explain. This was up to Sam and Castiel to work through; Dean was not getting in the middle of it.

“Dean prayed to me to heal you, and then he asked me to keep an eye on you while you were unconscious.” His eyes darted to Sam and then away again. “I can leave now.”

Sam hesitated. “No… you can stay.”

He looked at him in surprise. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I… yeah. I think we need to talk. I… never really gave you a chance to explain.”

“I’m afraid that my explanation does not make it any better.”

Sam gave a small, reassuring smile. “The fact that you realize that says a lot. We’ll talk when we get home, okay?”

Castiel nodded. “Alright.”

Once home, Sam led Castiel to his room just as Crowley was coming out of his study. He turned to watch the two of them disappear through the door, before his gaze turned to Dean, his brow furrowed. “What is he doing here?”

Dean sighed. “Talking things out with Sam.”

He arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you okay with that?”

“If he’ll make Sam happy, then I’m not going to come between them.”

And Sam did seem to be getting happier as Castiel began coming around more. It was a gradual change, as Sam progressively became comfortable around him again, until he was back to smiling like a dork every time the angel entered the room.

“Is it weird having Cas around?” Dean asked Crowley one day, after they had come home from a date to find Sam and Castiel watching a movie in the living room.

“Do you mean is it weird seeing a guy I used to sleep with on an almost weekly basis, or is it weird considering I rule Hell and he rules Heaven?”

“Uh… let’s go with both.”

He shrugged. “I think nothing of the people I used to sleep with, and Castiel is no different. It hardly even crosses my mind. From the business perspective… a bit. But it’s not so bad. I have a feeling that since we both care so much about you, Heaven and Hell will be at peace for some time now.”

“Well, that’s good. One less thing to worry about.”

“Speaking of things to worry about, you realize they’ll be becoming an item soon enough.”

“Yeah, I’ve made my peace with it,” Dean sighed.

Sure enough, a few months after Castiel started coming around again, Dean once again paused in front of the living room as he saw Sam and Castiel making out on the couch. This time, though, Dean found himself smiling at the sight. The smile shifted to a smirk as he pulled a small bottle of lube out of his pocket and tossed it onto Castiel’s lap before walking away.

 _“Dean!”_ Sam’s shout echoed behind him as he disappeared up the stairs, laughing.


	10. Family

It was a good thing Crowley had such a big house, as there were basically four of them living there now. Sure, Castiel popped in and out more than anyone else, and Sam and Dean were gone on hunting trips almost half the time, but still, it was home base for the four of them. Really, it wasn’t too bad, except…

“Seriously guys, the kitchen?!” Sam exclaimed furiously as he squeezed his eyes shut and proceeded to back into the kitchen chair.

“Oh, don’t act all high and mighty, moose,” Crowley snapped over his shoulder. “I saw you and Castiel in the garden yesterday. And it’s _my_ house, if anyone has the right to have sex wherever I bloody well please, it’s me. Until you and feathers pay rent, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Wh-wh- _how_ did you…?” he spluttered as he finally managed to reach the door.

“My study is _right over_ the garden. I would like to be able to appreciate the view without seeing Castiel bending you over the bench.”

 _“Crowley!”_ Dean shouted. “I walk in on them enough as it is, I do _not_ need you painting a picture!”

Yeah, the living arrangement was a work in progress. Sam and Dean tried to remember to send each other warning texts of ‘Don’t come home’, or else kept their activities to their rooms, but that didn’t always end up happening.

Aside from those instances, though; things were pretty good. Dean was able to hunt with his brother, and then come home to his boyfriend most nights – they were also encountering significantly less demon issues these days, thanks to Crowley’s reign. He had his best friend back, and said best friend was no longer exchanging hateful glares with his boyfriend every time they were in the same room. His brother was happy and in love, and he seemed to be warming up to Crowley, too.

That theory was confirmed when he walked into the kitchen one evening. Sam was sitting at the table with his back to the door, so he didn’t see Dean enter. The elder brother was about to announce his presence, when he realized that Sam was on the phone.

“Yeah, Bobby, things are pretty great,” Sam was saying.

Dean was about to leave the room, but he was standing close enough to Sam that with Bobby’s loud voice, he was able to hear his next question through the speaker. “So, bunking with the King of Hell’s still going well?”

He paused, watching Sam for his response.

“Yeah, it’s definitely not a living situation I ever saw coming, but… it’s a nice place, and well, it’s just not as bad as I thought it’d be.”

Dean smiled slightly. He had been pretty sure that Sam was happy living there, but it was good to hear it.

“So, he’s treating Dean well?”

“Yeah, he’s… you know, I’ve never seen Dean so happy.”

Dean’s smile grew. It was true that he had never been so happy, and he was glad that Sam was able to see and appreciate that.

“Yeah, I’ve seen that end of it. What about Crowley’s side?” Bobby pressed, and Dean grew a little nervous, unsure if Sam would respond as positively to that. It wasn’t as though Crowley didn’t treat him wonderfully, like he didn’t show his love for him in every way but words, but he knew how having a bias against someone could skew the facts.

“He… damn near bends over backwards for Dean. Seriously, I never would’ve believed it, but…

“He loves him,” Bobby finished for him.

“Yeah, he does.”

Dean was positively beaming now. Sam really had accepted that he and Crowley loved each other. He was happy for him, and Dean was pretty sure that with Sam’s support, Bobby would be, too. It was as though the final piece of his life had fallen into place.

“Well, s’pose that’s all we can ask for. How’re things going with Castiel, then?”

“It’s going great,” Sam said in that love-struck voice he slipped into whenever talking about Castiel. “Cas is… wonderful.”

“Good. I’m glad you boys are doing well for yourselves.”

“Yeah…” Sam’s voice fell slightly. “I just keep waiting for something to go wrong, you know. I’m happy, Dean’s happy, and if history’s proven anything, we’re not allowed to have that.”

Dean frowned and almost broke his silence, but Bobby beat him to it. “You’re not cursed, Sam,” he said exactly what Dean had been about to say.

“Yeah, well, it sure feels like it sometimes…”

“Hey, things are good, kid, focus on that…. Say, how ‘bout you four come over for dinner Friday – a proper family dinner.”

Sam and Dean both perked up. “That sounds great, Bobby. What’re you making?”

“You remember Jody Mills? She’s making meatloaf.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up, and Sam gave a half-laugh. “You’re dating the sheriff?”

“We’re not… dating. She’s just cooking.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” Dean could practically hear the eyeroll. “We’ll be there.”

“Good. Take care of yourselves.”

“You too.”

Dean took a couple of steps forward, around the side of the table, as Sam hung up the phone. “Did I hear what I think I just heard?” he asked as though he had just come in for the last bit of the conversation. “Bobby’s dating the sheriff?”

Sam laughed. “According to him, they’re not dating, she’s just offered to cook us all dinner.”

“Uh-huh. Well, if she’s a good cook, I don’t really care what they’re doing. When’s this dinner?”

“Friday. And he’s invited Cas and Crowley, too.”

Dean raised his eyebrows in a convincing show of surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. He said he wanted a family dinner – us and our guys.”

“I’ll tell Crowley,” he said with a grin. “Should be fun.”

But apparently, a family dinner was not the King of Hell’s idea of fun.

 _“Why_ exactly would I want to sit down to dinner with a bunch of people who hate me?” he demanded.

Dean sighed. “I don’t think they hate you, anymore. And Jody’s never even met you, she can’t hate you.” Crowley just glared at him, so he continued. “Hey, I heard both Sam and Bobby say that they’re happy for us.”

“And I’m glad for that, really. But that doesn’t mean I have any place at this dinner.”

“Yes, you do. Come on, man, it’s my family, and you know what that means to me. And I know you had to have a family of some sort back when you were human, so you should have some memories of what it means.”

His gaze darkened slightly. “My mother abandoned me when I was eight, and I never knew my father. Not really the greatest memories.”

Dean drew in a breath as he realized what was really going on here. He took a step forward, reaching out to place his hand on Crowley’s shoulder. “Well, all the more reason to make some better ones,” he said softly. “You’re my boyfriend, and that means you’re a part of the family, whether you like it or not. That’s why Bobby invited you – because he knows you’re part of this family, now.”

Crowley took a deep breath, not quite looking at Dean, but Dean could still see the look in his eyes, and he knew he had gotten through to him. He stared at the wall for several seconds before speaking again. “Does Bobby’s little girlfriend even know what’s out there, or am I going to have to play pretend all night?”

Dean smiled and kissed him.

Come Friday, Crowley wasn’t as enthusiastic as Sam, Dean, and Castiel were, but he put on a good face and didn’t complain, so that was good enough for Dean. When they got to Bobby’s, they introduced Crowley and Castiel to Jody, and then settled down around the table.

“So, Jody, why’re you putting up with this idiot?” Dean asked as she dished up the meatloaf. “He on house arrest, or something?”

“More of a preemptive measure,” she said with an affectionate smile as she handed him his plate. “Someone has to keep him out of trouble.”

Dean laughed. “Sounds about right.”

“Don’t make me regret inviting you,” Bobby threatened him.

“Oh, I’m sure he will,” Sam said with a laugh.

Dean was about to object, but he was distracted by the plate of food being handed to him. “Oh, you’re awesome, Jody,” he said instead.

She chuckled. “You’re welcome.” She gave the next plate she dished up to Sam, and then paused. “Do angels and demons eat?”

“I don’t have to,” Crowley explained. “But I enjoy good food on occasion.”

“This is really good,” Dean managed to say around a mouthful of meatloaf.

Crowley rolled his eyes. “You also think that a burger with more grease than meat is good. Your opinion on food means nothing.” He snagged Dean’s fork out of his hand and ate the piece of meatloaf on it.

“Hey!” Dean protested, but Crowley paid no mind.

“Mmm. I’ll take a plate,” he said as he put the fork back on Dean’s plate, grinning at his glowering boyfriend.

“Castiel, would you like some?” Jody asked as she dished up Crowley’s plate.

“No, thank you,” Castiel said politely. “I taste every molecule in food, making eating not as enjoyable as it is for other species.”

“Angels aren’t meant to enjoy the pleasures of life,” Crowley smirked.

Castiel shrugged. “I still enjoy a great number of things.” He looked over at Sam with a smile.

Crowley thanked Jody as she handed him his plate, then she grabbed her own and took her seat next to Bobby.

“Thank you for dinner, Jody; it’s delicious,” Sam praised.

“Oh, it was no problem. It’s good seeing you boys again. I’m glad Bobby suggested this.”

“Me too,” Bobby agreed, giving her a small smile.

“Well, we’ll have to do it more often,” Dean said, giving Bobby a pointed look.

“Oh, I don’t want to wear her out,” he protested a tad sheepishly.

“Please, it takes a lot more than this to wear me out,” Jody objected. “I’d love to do this more.”

Bobby’s smile grew. “Great.”

The conversation died down slightly as they all enjoyed the dinner that Jody had cooked for them. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he had had a home-cooked meal that he hadn’t had to make himself. And Jody was one hell of a cook. But the food only accounted for half of the enjoyment that Dean was experiencing right now.

He looked around the table at all of the most important people in his life. Bobby and Jody were sitting side-by-side, occasionally glancing at each other. They may not be dating yet, but they were definitely sweet on each other, there was no doubting that. Castiel had a sickeningly adoring look on his face as he watched Sam eat. Whatever had happened in the past, Castiel loved Sam, and no one could argue that, least of all Dean, who was more than happy to consider Castiel his friend again. Beside the angel, Sam was seemingly oblivious to the attention he was getting as he washed down the meatloaf with a drink of beer. He seemed to be completely relaxed, something that Dean had never really seen in Sam until he had started dating Castiel. There had always been some kind of crap going on in their lives that cause his little brother to have some kind of tension, but not anymore. Lastly, his gaze settled on Crowley, who was already looking at him, grinning as though he knew exactly what he was thinking. Maybe he did; Crowley sometimes seemed to have a better read on him than he had on himself. Dean didn’t mind; it was kind of nice, in a way. The most important thing in this particular moment was that Crowley was grinning, which meant that he was glad that he had come – or was at least not regretting it.

Dean smiled as his gaze flickered briefly around the table again before once more landing on Crowley. They may have gone through a lot of crap, but this was his family, as dysfunctional as it may be, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!  
> Comments/Kudos are much appreciated.


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